A WildeHopps Tail: Mammalia
by marian-ette92
Summary: When a run-in with an old buddy goes horribly wrong, Nick will have to rely on his partner, Judy, more than ever.
1. Chapter 1

The scream of a siren collided with the screech of skidding tires—and the shriek of one terrified fox. But Officer Judy Hopps made the sharp turn with ease. Furry brow furrowed, violet eyes locked on her fleeing target, she kept her foot planted firmly on the gas pedal and turned (or, rather, flew) onto Alopex Ave. The car swiveled violently as its wheels straightened out.

"Um, Carrots?"

Judy had been ignoring her partner for the past ten minutes. But when she glanced over at him—and saw that his claws were beginning to leave deep marks in the leather seats—she granted the fox a curt, "Mm?"

He pointed a thumb towards the rear of the vehicle. "He went thatta way."

"Did he now?" Zootopia's first rabbit cop smirked, adding another five miles-per-hour to her already hazardous speed.

Officer Nick Wilde's voice was even, but his rust-colored fur was standing on end. "Yes, yes he did," he said, shifting his extended limbs slightly so as to brace himself between the car door and the glove box more effectively. "So, would you mind explaining, oh designated driver, _why_ we made a left back there?"

Judy drummed her fingers against the steering wheel, a habit of hers when she was starting to feel irritated. "Remember that time we saw Hyena Gomez at the Velour on Thylogale Street?" she asked.

"… Yeah."

"And do you remember how lost we got afterwards?"

"How could I forget?"

Judy made a sharp, squealing right onto Rattus Road. "Do you remember why we got lost?"

"Yes, because you—ah! Rodent! RODENT! Watch-out-watch-out-watch-out!"

Judy swerved an inch to the right, narrowly avoiding a tiny red Alpha Romeo. Nick was grateful the sirens were going; he'd rather not know what the irate little mouse was shouting at them.

"Because _you_ ," he continued through bared teeth, "kept getting us stuck on one-way streets. It took us fifteen minutes to stop going in circles. Actually …" Nick glanced as a passing sign. "Now that you mention it, the perp's headed in that direction."

Judy made another right, smirk still firmly in place. "Hmm. I wonder if our friend knows that."

Nick's ears perked up.

"His profile says he's from out of town," Judy continued. Horns blared as they soared through a red light. "He came to Zootopia in the hopes that he might make it big on the criminal scene. If he gets half as lost as we did—"

"—and you're betting he will."

Judy nodded. "Then the roads should spit him out right … about …"

Suddenly, headlights appeared a quarter mile down the road. They were coming up fast. Judy squealed. "HAH! I knew it! That's right, come to Judy." With a mischievous cackle, she floored it. Nick moaned.

"Rabbit, what are you doing?"

His partner ignored him.

"Rabbit." They were ten yards away from a collision at best. "RA—"

"Oh, you dumb fox!" Judy hissed. "Could you just shut up and trust me for _two seconds_?"

"WE DON'T HAVE TWO SECONDS!"

Suddenly, in a haze of burning rubber, the perp slammed on his brakes, swerving dangerously between the tall, brick buildings. Judy did the same. She was out, gun cocked, before Nick even had time to unbuckle his seatbelt—not that he was about to any time soon.

"SHOW ME YOUR HOOVES!" Judy shouted. "YOUR HOOVES, HOFFMAN!"

A somewhat astounded but tough-looking zebra extended a pair of golden-shoed hooves out the car window. His mane was in cornrows, both ears had a long row of gold and silver earrings, and long, jagged scars on his neck made grotesque X's with his stripes.

Still trembling, Nick reached for his radio. "C-Clawhauser, this is W-Wilde. Send backup."

Through a mouthful of something (donuts, Nick guessed), the dispatch cheetah mumbled something that sounded like, "Sure thing!" Then he swallowed. "Say, Nick, you okay? You sound—"

"—like Judy had another one of her ideas?" The fox laughed involuntarily, an explosion of un-Nick-like giddiness. He swallowed. "Yes. Now, if you don't mind." He switched off the radio.

Stacey "X-tasy" Hoffman was reluctantly exiting his vehicle. Nick armed himself and did the same. He may have just looked death square in the eye, but panicking about it would have to come later; right now Judy needed him.

"Allow me," he said, stepping past the rabbit. Height-wise, he only came up to the zebra's hindquarters, so he added a fierce snarl to his approach. "HOOVES UP!"

Meanwhile, Judy began searching the car, the built-in flashlight on her iPhone activated. Nick could hear her muttering to herself, "Well, well, well, what have we here?"

"Whatever it is, it isn't mine!" brayed the zebra.

Nick snorted. "It isn't anymore, pal." He fastened a pair of handcuffs around the zebra's hooves, lassoed him—standard procedures for ungulate-types—and lead him towards the police car. "Alright, let's go," he said, trying to sound tough, but feeling more than a little unsettled—and not because this criminal was twice his size; after two years on the force, Nick knew how to take care of himself. It was the haunting thought that, not too long ago, he'd been on the opposite end of this profession. A common hustler, like this snaggletooth punk. He shook his head, anxiety rising as he shoved the zebra inside the vehicle. _This could have been me_ , he thought, and he shuddered.

Judy appeared at his side with a pawful of Ziploc bags. Nick recognized their contents all too well. "I dunno, Carrots," he said, stroking his chin in a gesture of mock-doubt. "Think we've got enough evidence to convince the judge he's our animal?"

The rabbit snorted. "Truth is, Slick, I think we have too much evidence. Whaddya say we round up the rest of his posse and let 'em share?"

The fox cocked an eyebrow. "Why, Miss Hopps," he said, clicking his tongue. "I do believe that's against standard procedure. I'd say that's a first, but oh, wait—so's playing chicken with perps on one-way streets."

Judy stretched her arms out, bringing them up to rest behind her head. "Hey, we caught our guy, didn't we? And even if we hadn't, I'd do it again to see that look on your face one more time." Her expression morphed into one of mock-grotesque terror.

"Oh _would_ you, now?" growled Nick.

"Yep. For sure."

"I'm that funny when I'm scared, huh?

"A natural comedian."

"Well, let's see your face when I do THIS"—Nick flung his arm around the rabbit's tiny waist, pulling her into his side. He ignored her cries of protest, rapidly rubbing his knuckles against the spot between her ears.

"Nick! Ow! Come on, lemme go! This isn't fair!"

"Not a chance, rabbit." Two cop cars pulled up behind X-tasy's vehicle, their headlights lighting up the wrestling pair.

"Gah! This is embarrassing! Cut it out, I'm serious! _Stooooop!_ " She shoved a paw into his ribs, tickling him viciously until he couldn't hold on any longer. They were still chuckling giddily as a team of their coworkers invaded the scene.

"HOPPS. WILDE."

The pair snapped into attention at the sound of their approaching chief. "Sir!"

"What's going on here? Where's Hoffman?"

Nick pressed his lips together, the threat of laughter pulsating in his throat. Judy took over—thank goodness.

"He's in the car, sir, cuffed and ready for a night in the tank. Standard procedure." She threw in a salute, as if to show she still took her job seriously.

The broad-shouldered buffalo glanced over at the police vehicle, then back at his officers. He grunted, nostrils flaring. "I see. And that little"—he gestured towards them vaguely—"whatever it was. Was _that_ also standard procedure?"

Nick swallowed. The Chief had him there. "Just trying to keep our spirits up, Chief. Crime being what it is these days, I figure if we don't keep our senses of humor intact, we might start to find the job a little, well"—he smiled good-naturedly—"discouraging, for lack of a better word. You understand, of course."

Whether Chief Bogo understood or not was unapparent. What _was_ apparent was his eagerness to stop playing babysitter and wrap this case up once and for all. "Alright, everyone," he said, turning. "Let's get this long-faced delinquent back to the station—ah ah, not you two." He placed his hooves on Nick and Judy's shoulders, pulling the decamping duo backward. " _You_ will get your hairy little hineys over to Jaguar Jewelers in Downtown Tundra Town. There's been a break in, and I want you on it. If, that is"—he bent over until the points of his horns were an inch from his officers' faces—"you can keep your 'senses of humor' under control."

Nick and Judy nodded vigorously. But as they went to swap keys with another officer, Judy prodded her partner's ribs one last time and scampered off. Nick was laughing too hard to keep up.


	2. Chapter 2

It was exactly 2:13 a.m. when the ZPD arrived on the scene. The eight officers kept out of sight. Supposedly Señor Onca, who both owned and lived above Jaguar Jewelers, had seen from his window not only large shards of glass fanning out into the road but a big black van parked across the street. He swore he'd never seen it before.

Well, that complicated things a little; if this attempted burglary was a team effort, this could turn out to be a very long night for everyone. Nick hoped that Chief Bogo would find it in his big, buffalo heart to give them the morning off.

Judy sent four officers to the one side of the two-story building. The additional two were sent around the back, leaving Nick and Judy to lead the charge from the left. Their ears flattened against their skulls, they peered around the corner. Judy brought her paw up to her earpiece.

"Wait, wait, wait," Nick whispered, stopping her arm.

"What? What is it?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Can I talk into the earpiece?" Judy rolled her eyes. Well, that wasn't a "no"; Nick pressed the device lodged in the canal of his pointed ear. "This is Officer Wilde speaking," he said, his voice cheesily authoritative. "I have a visual on the van." Meanwhile Judy vanished behind the wall again, slowly drawing her gun, her back flat against the brick wall.

"Copy that, Wilde," a voice replied: Officer Gray's, a skilled albeit somewhat snarky timber wolf, when circumstances allowed for it. This was not one of those circumstances. "What are we dealing with, here?"

Nick squinted. "Difficult to say. But I'm pretty sure—" He paused. There, just behind the windshield, was a tiny, ebbing glow. He leaned forward a fraction of an inch. "Gray. How's your view of the vehicle from your position?"

"As good as yours, I'd wager."

"Tell me what you see."

There was a pause. "Um, nothing so far. Oh wait, hang on." Another pause. "The window is rolling down, and there's something … coming out of it. I think it's smoke, Wilde. Cigarette smoke. Someone's definitely got their eyes on this place."

Judy's paw flew up to her ear. "Gray, take your division and surround the van. I want communications between the burglars and their lookout extinguished, do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir." There was an awkward pause. "I mean, ma'am."

Nick snorted.

"Shut up, fox."

"Yes, sir."

They waited for the signal from Gray's team before slinking silently towards the store. Heads low, they moved in tandem, quietly elated, though their expressions didn't show it. In all Nick's years as a crafty con man, nothing came close to the thrills of this job, the unchoreographed harmony of movement and thought that made him and his partner such an exemplary team. It was almost enough to make him forget that unspeakable danger was just a few yards away.

As they came to crouch below the shattered store window, Judy held out a warning paw: there was only a narrow strip of concrete against the wall where the glass hadn't fallen. Nick nodded, aiming his steps. Soon they were in earshot of the would-be burglars.

"I still say we shouldn't have broken the window," someone said—a male. "How do you know we didn't wake anyone up?"

The voice that replied was heavily accented. "We'd awlready be in the slammer if we had. Besides, how else were we supposed to get in? T'rough the chimney like Santa Bear?"

"This building doesn't have a chimney," hissed a third voice.

"My point exactly."

There was sound, then, like jangling metal—jewelry, unmistakably. Nick and Judy exchanged a glance. If they moved now they could catch the crooks red-pawed. _One_ , Judy signaled, _two_ —

"PAWS UP!" Nick shouted, and they sprang to their feet. Unfortunately, they'd made a serious error of judgment: their heads only barely cleared the edge of the windowsill. In fact, their guns weren't even in sight. Immediately they attempted to remedy this oversight, awkwardly raising their weapons into view.

Looking almost unsure, one of the burglars reached for his gun. Nick fired a warning shot. "DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT—" Then he stopped dead. His mouth fell ajar. "Ethan McLaughlin? Is that … is that _you_?"

There were four burglars in the room: an aardvark, a mongoose, and two unusually large hyenas. At the sound of his name, the shorter hyena stepped forward.

"DON'T MOVE!" shouted Judy, but the hyena wasn't deterred. He took another step, squinting.

"Holy crap," he said finally. "Nicholas Wilde." Then he burst into a fit of hysterical hyena laughter. "Nick! Don't tell me you're here to rob the same jewelry store!"

There was a moment of confusion, then Nick understood: their oversight, the windowsill, was concealing their uniforms completely.

"Yep," he said quickly. "Darn. Guess you beat us to the punch." He tapped Judy's elbow, and she slowly lowered her gun.

Ethan cackled. "Oh, this'll be a story for the boys back in Sahara! Good grief, how long's it been? Nine? Ten years?"

"Something like that," said Nick. His thoughts were a tangle of two very different worlds, but he managed a sideways smirk just the same. "So, uh, what's new?"

"Oh, you know, same old same old," said Ethan. "Just trying to make a buck—or several thousand, in this case." He patted the other hyena's shoulder. "I'm surprised you haven't recognized Alex yet, though."

Nick was flabbergasted. "Alex?" Ethan's little brother? Nick supposed he _sort_ of recognized the calm focus in his expression, but the rest of the hyena had completely transformed. For one, he a significantly taller than his brother, now, and bulkier. And there was something else, something that, when Nick thought about it, made him want to laugh out loud. Of course: the hyena wasn't standing there sucking on his paws. This shouldn't have been especially surprising; the kid was, what, nineteen, now? But the habit was a part of what had made Alex, Alex. It was hard, now, for Nick to picture him without it. "Well, well, well," he said distantly. "So it is."

Alex nodded, saying nothing.

Meanwhile, Judy's glance flitted between the reunited friends. Nick could tell from her expression that they were wondering the same thing: now what? He wasn't sure. He felt stuck; two steps back and Ethan would be able to see their uniforms. That wouldn't go over well. Ethan had more than a few reasons to hate the ZPD, and Nick had a feeling his own involvement wouldn't change that.

But even if Nick and Judy revealed their badges now, drew out their guns and caught the burglars by surprise, the McLaughlins knew Nick too well. They'd know that, whatever threats Nick might make in an attempt to control the situation, he couldn't possibly carry them out. Not against them. And where would that leave Judy? To bear the full responsibility of their capture or to share in Nick's conflict of interest and hesitate. Either option could cost the rabbit her life. His heart thumped painfully in his chest, sweat beading beneath his fur.

"Ethan!" hissed the mongoose. "Are we in a jewelry store or a coffee shop?"

"Let's get out of here!" agreed the aardvark.

The hyena brushed them off with a wave of his paw. "Chill out, guys. Harry hasn't tipped us off yet, has he?" _Ah_ , thought Nick, _the smoker in the van_. He was glad they'd taken their comrade's silence as a sign of smooth sailing. "Nick, Nick, Nick," Ethan continued, shaking his head. "I'm just sorry I can't leave you anything worth stealing. Finders keepers, you know how it goes." He picked up a briefcase doubtless chock-full of jewels.

Nick forced himself to laugh. "Yeah, I do. Oh boy." Blood was roaring in his ears. He was dizzy with indecision.

Ethan lifted the briefcase to rest it on his shoulder. "Well. See ya round?"

"Yeah. See ya round."

The burglars moved towards the window.

Suddenly, Judy sprang back, drawing her gun. "ZPD! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!"

Swearing like sailors, the burglars dove in different directions, barricading themselves behind shattered display cases. Judy leapt through the dark window after them. "All units, move in!" Nick followed her instinctively.

He wished in these moments he could jump like his big-footed partner. Instead he clambered clumsily through the window frame, paws collecting shards of glass like a mosaic. But any pain he might have felt was masked by adrenaline as he scrambled into the dark.

Keeping low, he quickly analyzed his surroundings, ears twitching at every sound: guns cocking, animals shouting. To his relief, one of the noises was Gray's approaching team; apparently Judy's command had gotten through loud and clear. "We've got you surrounded!" the wolf barked outside. "Come out or we start firing!" The burglars replied with two gunshots of their own. _Idiots_ , thought Nick, an unbearable dread washing over him, _you'll never make it out of here alive, now_.

Suddenly, at the far end of the dark room, he noticed the outline of two long, rounded ears: Judy's. She appeared to be crouched behind a case at the back of the store. Keeping close to the walls, the fox army-crawled towards her. He was beginning to feel those shards in his paws now, but he stayed his course stubbornly, determined to get to her. Patches of blood-stained carpet marked his progress.

"Hopps," he whispered when he'd reached the case, "are you crazy? Why didn't you wait for—"

But his words caught in his throat: she wasn't alone.

"Ethan," said Nick, truly surprised. "W-what are you doing?" The hyena had a meaty arm wrapped tightly around Judy's neck, the gun he'd wrestled from her grasp firmly pressed against her temple. "Let her go."

Ethan didn't seem interested in discussing his captive. "You're a cop?" he spat. "A flatfoot? After everything we've been through?" Judy gasped for breath as her captor's grip tightened.

"I …" Nick started, but what could he say? His eyes met Judy's briefly. "I was given a chance to make something of myself." His voice was so even, so calm it surprised him. "Remember how we used to dream about those? Second chances? All any of us ever wanted was a way out of this town."

The hyena laughed mirthlessly. "Really? That's what you're calling this? Your 'second chance?'" He shook his head. "You're a traitor and you know it. A filthy, cowardly _traitor_!" Suddenly, a stray bullet utterly devastated the glass case to their left. Ethan's fury turned to fear. "CALL YOUR MEN OFF OR I'LL SHOOT HER!" he cried. "DO IT NOW!"

A million different ideas sped through the fox's head, but none of them would get Judy out of this alive and he knew it. It was comply or get her shot. He brought his paw up to his ear. "Gray, stand down. I repeat, stand down."

Immediately, all gunfire ceased. There was silence. "There," said Nick, holding out a paw for Judy. But the hyena didn't release her, and she was starting to look dizzy from lack of oxygen. "Hey, hey, hey, look at me, Carrots. Look at me. It's gonna be okay, you hear me? Ethan's not going hurt you. Are you, Ethan?"

The coldness in his friend's voice chilled Nick to the bone. "It was a cop that put a bullet through my dad's head. Or did you forget that? Smug, self-righteous scumbags like her who put my family on the streets. I dunno." He moved the barrel of the gun down to her neck. "Seems only fair to take one of theirs."

Judy's eyes grew wide with fear and fury. She clawed at him uselessly, her feet kicking at the air.

Now the calm in Nick's voice all but dilapidated. "Your dad was a _gang leader_ , Ethan! He hurt innocent animals! Don't you remember the friends he'd bring home with him? How they treated you and Alex? Your _mother_?"

"MY FATHER," roared Ethan, "WAS THE ONLY PROTECTION WE HAD AND THEY _MURDERED_ HIM!"

Nick let his friend draw a few shaky breaths before speaking. "Ethan, _she_ didn't."

It was clear that these words struck a chord, and for a moment, Nick thought he might actually let her go. But a darker, deeper impulse quickly took hold. "Yes she did," he growled, and the paw holding the gun against Judy's head twitched.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash that made everyone jump. The two officers out back: Nick had almost forgotten they were there. But he guessed that they'd just managed to break down a door. For a split second, Ethan's head swiveled back to investigate, and Nick saw it: an opportunity. Time slowed. As if shifting into autopilot, he whipped out his gun, both eyes wide open as he aimed. Then, in a moment far too brief for what happened next, he pulled the trigger.

The arm holding Judy went limp.


	3. Chapter 3

Nick had attended Ethan's funeral in secret, taking care to stay hidden in a cluster of trees at the edge of the cemetery. There, paws wrapped around himself protectively, he'd listened.

He'd tried to keep his breathing slow and even—tried to breathe at all—but this had become increasingly difficult as the ceremony went on. The eulogy was sappy at best. Judging by the priest's choice of descriptors—"kind," "generous,"—it was clear he hadn't know the mischievous hyena very well. And then there was the turnout: primarily plainclothes policemen who, frankly, weren't fooling anyone. A cheap move on Chief Bogo's part, Nick thought. Hadn't the ZPD done enough without turning the funeral into a secondhand stakeout? Most of Ethan's friends—at least the ones in his particular line of work—hadn't even so much as poked their heads in for the viewing for fear of leaving in cuffs. This made for one lonely, desolate funeral.

But Nick had kept to his hiding spot just the same—he owed Ethan that much—and it wasn't until Mrs. McLaughlin was saying her goodbyes, until her cries began to carry across the grounds in long, agonized waves, that he finally succumbed to his grief and left.

He'd taken a cab to the funeral, instructing the cabbie to park two blocks away so he wouldn't be seen. But right now he didn't want to be with anyone, not even a cab driver. So, taking care to give the funeral an exceptionally wide berth, he headed north on foot.

The walk was hellish, the sights and sounds of the city muted, dulled for some reason, as if part of the world had been clawed out and smothered. Would it ever come back? the fox wondered, burying his hands deep into his pockets. Would the world ever have anything to offer him again? He kept his eyes on his feet as he shuffled home, resigning himself to his heavy thoughts. He deserved them.

His keys were oddly heavy in his paws. It took all of his effort to turn them in the lock. But as soon as the door gave way, closed behind him, he fell against it, letting himself slide down to the floor. He didn't even realize he was crying until he was gasping for breath, chest heaving, stomach wrenching with the unfamiliar sensation. He covered his face with his paws. He had to stop. Why couldn't he stop?

He finally made it to his bed an hour later. Curled up like a cub, he'd wrapped his tail under and around him until he was engulfed in a furry cocoon. If he could just stay here, undisturbed, maybe the world would forget about him. That would be nice, he decided. He'd like to be forgotten, to just waste away here until he and this nightmare he'd created were nothing more than a horrible memory. He closed his eyes …

Someone knocked on the door.

 _Go away_ , Nick wanted to say. _Can't you see I'm trying to be forgotten?_ The visitor knocked again. Well, he thought, they'd give up eventually. Much to his chagrin, however, the knob turned and the door clicked open. Crap. He'd forgotten to lock it.

"Hey, Slick, you in here?"

Nick's ears twitched with recognition. He said nothing. The intruder descended the steps into the boiler room and made her way to his bedside.

"Slick?"

The fox glanced at his partner through half-lidded eyes. She was wearing jeans and a Flock Off the Earth t-shirt, and she was holding something, though he couldn't quite tell what.

"Hey, uh, I brought you something. Well, it's nothing, really, but I thought you might, um …" Judy held up her offering, her expression sheepish. It was a pie—and it smelled heavenly, like blueberries and butter. Nick closed his eyes again. _Don't you dare_ , he told himself. He had to be firm if he was going to waste away. "You went to the funeral, didn't you?" said Judy.

Nick's eyes flew open. How did she know? Had she followed him there?

As if sensing his panic, the rabbit said quickly, "I've never seen you all dressed up before. You look nice. Really nice."

Nick sighed loud and long. He wasn't about to get rid of her any time soon, was he? "Yeah," he murmured. "I went."

"Oh, Nick, why?"

It was a fair question, and one he wasn't sure he could answer. All he knew was that somewhere amidst the past few sleepless nights, amidst the flashbacks that had sent him reeling, sometimes knocking him flat on his back for hours at a time, he'd known, he'd just known that he had to be there, paying his respects, even if he had to pay them in secret.

A lump the size of Zootopia welled in his throat. His brow tightened.

"Did anyone see you?"

He shook his head.

"You sure?"

He rolled over to face the wall. The rabbit sighed. Then, just when Nick thought she might actually leave, she hopped up beside him, her long feet dangling off the edge of the bed. The squeaky old frame shook back and forth as she swung them.

"I've been thinking." She paused. "I think we ought to get out of here for a few days."

Nick's ears flicked. "We?"

"Yeah." Her voice was solemn, but there was a nervous quiver to it, too. "I just figured since, you know, you're suspended until the SBI has cleared you"—Nick flinched at this—"you might as well take a break. A _real_ break, not … this."

Without waiting for Nick's consent, she slid off the bed, then, and headed for his dresser. He craned his neck to watch her. "What are you doing?"

She started with the top drawer, pulling out five pairs of socks. Then she moved onto the second drawer, removing his pajamas and a pair of—

" _Whoa_ , okay, stop. I didn't say yes." Ignoring him completely, Judy walked back over to the bed, slid a small suitcase out from underneath—why did she know that was there?—and she placed the piles of clothes inside. " _Judy._ " She looked up at him. Judging by her expression, Nick figured he probably looked pretty awful. A paw to his face revealed that his fur was matted and wet on one side. He hurriedly smoothed it out.

But Judy's staggered expression quickly melted away. Her eyes narrowed, and something tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Nicholas Wilde," she said, "you are under arrest."

Nick blinked at her. "For _what_?"

"Loitering." She unloaded the third and fourth drawers of his dresser.

"Hah hah, very fun—"

"And resisting arrest," she snipped. Then, dragging the suitcase behind her, she made for the small sink in the far corner of the room. She'd grabbed his toothbrush and had tossed it into the small, front pocket on the suitcase before the fox could protest.

"Okay, I have ziplock baggies, you know. I'm not _completely_ uncivilized."

To this she actually responded, making for another corner she believed was the kitchen (he understood, it was difficult to tell). There she started rummaging through various drawers.

She gasped when the fox appeared behind her; he'd managed to cross the creaky old floor without a sound. His loosened black tie sliding across her face, he reached around her, pulled open the only drawer she'd neglected. Then, in very deliberate movements, he removed the toothbrush from the suitcase and dropped it into a ziplock bag. He stepped away.

"So, you're coming?" Judy asked, rocking back and forth on her heels.

"No," Nick said flatly, but when he saw Judy's excitement visibly drain, he ran a paw over his face. "Where would we go?"

"I was thinking the Capitol."

"Panthereon?"

She nodded eagerly. "It's supposed to be beautiful during the fall. We could take a few tours, maybe visit the National Museum— _or_ ," she said quickly when Nick shot her a bored look, "we could grab a couple of churros and aimlessly wander the streets. Either way." She gave him her cheesiest, most irresistible grin.

He had to admit, the churros bit was actually tempting. But he'd be kidding himself if he thought a road trip would somehow magically fix everything. Right? _Besides_ , he thought miserably, _you don't deserve to feel better. Your friend is six feet under and_ you're _the one who put him there._ A wave of guilt pulled him back towards the bed like a riptide.

But Judy Hopps would have none of it. In a single, swift movement, she slipped under his arm and was steering him towards the door, holding his suitcase in her other paw. Nick rolled his eyes. "You are _so_ irritating, you know that? Why won't you just let me be miserable, for once?"

"Because if you're miserable, I'm miserable," she answered, her expression serious. Rolling his eyes again, he reached over and took the suitcase from her. She gazed up at him, eyes twinkling.

"Alright," he said, "you win. Let's go get you packed."

"YES!" Judy was out from under him now, tugging at his arm as if dispatch had called them. "Oh, and by the way, my suitcase is in the car."

Nick snorted. "Why does that not surprise me?" But he was too exhausted to press the matter further.

Before he knew what hit him, he'd been pushed, prodded, and packed into the front seat of Judy's truck. The pie was planted his lap, and when she'd hopped into the driver's seat, Judy handed him her iPhone as well. "You can be DJ," she declared. Then they pulled away from the curb, Panthereon-bound.

Nick only realized he was crying again when hot tears began to drip onto his paws. Mortified, he wiped them away and turned to face the window, praying Judy hadn't seen. Never let 'em see that they get to you: wasn't that his motto? He swallowed his sorrow with a painful gulp.

As they flew onto the freeway, classic rock playing softly in the background, the hum of muffled wind quickly lulled him to sleep. He would think he'd dreamed, later, that Judy's paw was on his shoulder.


End file.
